Not All Who Wander Are Lost
by rachelsmatchstick
Summary: The Wanderer had always lived a relatively carefree life traveling Skyrim and going where he pleased. But when he and his fellow Stormcloaks get caught up in an Imperial ambush, it sets in motion a chain of events that change not only his own life, but also the life of a Nordic woman who is in the carriage with them and can't seem to remember who she is or how she got there.
1. Chapter 1

(The Wanderer)

"Damned Imperials," the Wanderer thought to himself as he looked hard through the winter fog. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, but he decided silently praying for some sort of interference couldn't hurt at this point. The rough jolting of the carriage was irritating him almost as much as the whining of the thief Ralof was talking to. Ulfric was sitting across from the thief, but he was gagged and unable to speak. He wanted to laugh and taunt him like he usually would when they got in a bind, but the circumstances were different this time. He shouldn't be talking to him anyway. The identity of Ulfric's champion had to remain secret. He looked once more at the unconscious nordic woman in the seat across from him. She was terribly pale and her forehead was bruised and bloody. She had been in that state the entire ride.

"Maybe she's dead," he thought with pity as he noted her youthfulness. "She can not be much younger than I." His speculating was interrupted by Ralof raising his voice to the thief. He was saying something about Ulfric, but the Wanderer paid them no heed as he noticed the nord woman stirring. She opened eyes of striking green, although there didn't seem to be much life behind them. Her brown hair was wild and matted. She sat up as best as she could with bound hands, looking around obviously confused, and then frightened.

"What's the matter, love? Not yet ready for Sovngarde?" He asked with a grin. She looked at him with a bewildered expression. She seemed lost. "Do you know who I am?" Her voice was strained as though she hadn't spoken in a while. He couldn't understand the meaning of her question, so he simply shook his head. "How is it that I know what Sovngarde is yet I do not know who I am?"

(Nord woman)

The male nord looked genuinely concerned but said nothing. His dark eyes were deep and full of pity. She couldn't bear to look at them without tearing up, so she grit her teeth and sharply looked away at the other people in the carriage. She carefully took in each person, but none of them were familiar to her. She felt as though her own heart would burst from the stress of not knowing herself or the situation that got her there. She took a deep breath and made herself look back at the nord.

"Am I to die without knowing my own name?" He gave her a sympathetic smile, "There are worse things." The warmth in his voice was comforting for a moment, although her anxiety came flooding back as the carriage stopped and she was ushered out with the rest of the prisoners and lined up in front of the Imperial soldiers. She knew they were Imperials by their armor, but that wasn't enough to help her remember anything or explain her unknown identity. Her head was pounding as she slowly began to realize that thinking wasn't going to help. The Imperials meanwhile were calling names from a list. A man she shared the carriage with tried to run, but he was quickly shot down.  
>"This is it," she thought, "I am really going to die." She laughed bitterly. It was all she could do now.<p>

(The Wanderer)

The Imperials called people one by one to wait by the block. It was obvious they were eager to call the name of Ulfric Stormcloak.  
>"Ruthless bastards," the Wanderer thought as the man with the list suddenly looked at him. "Wait... who are you?" he asked. "I have no name, sir. I am called 'the Wanderer'," he replied jovially as if he wasn't about to lose his own head. Ralof laughed at his mockery of the fearful atmosphere the Imperials were attempting to create. The soldier hesitantly commented that he wasn't on the list, but his captain demanded that he go to the block, too. "Sorry, prisoner," he said. The Wanderer merely shrugged and walked over to the other prisoners.<p>

The soldier then called the name "Rahkelle". There was only one prisoner left. She furrowed her brow and looked around uncertainly until the captain yelled "Yes, you! Stop being foolish and get over there, now!" He studied her pensive expression as she walked over to the other prisoners and stood next to him.  
>"That's a lovely name," the Wanderer whispered with a grin. She smiled for the first time since she woke up.<br>"At least now I know it," she said as the axe came down upon the neck of the first unlucky prisoner called to the block.

(Rahkelle)

The Imperials shoved the headless body of the first prisoner away from the block and called Rahkelle's name next. She took one last look at the man called the Wanderer. "Save me a seat in the Hall of Valor, Rahkelle." She nodded as she made her way to the block and placed her neck upon the cold bloody stone. Everything seemed to slow down as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She heard a strange, menacing sound she had never heard before amongst talking. She chose to ignore it as she braced herself for death when suddenly the ground shook, then people were screaming. She opened her eyes just as a dragon opened it's great mouth and roared powerfully. Rahkelle didn't even realize she had been holding her breath until she released it all at once while staring in awe of the winged beast.

She felt someone grab her from behind and lift her to her feet. She looked behind her at the Wanderer. He was staring at dragon intently when Ralof ran up to them. "Come on," he shouted amidst the chaos "the gods may not provide another chance such as this incredible disruption!" Rahkelle knew she had to follow them lest she burn down with Helgen.

(The Wanderer)

The Wanderer turned to Ralof. "I never thought I would be so glad to see a dragon," he said as they ran into the tower where the other Stormcloaks were. "Does this mean the legends are true?" Ralof replied. "Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric said gravely.

"I don't understand, is this normal?!" Rahkelle exclaimed.  
>"No, this is my first time seeing one as well. We have to get out of here." He looked up the staircase. A Stormcloak soldier up ahead was trying to move some rocks when suddenly the wall next to him was blown away by the terrible creature, who exhaled a wind of fire into the tower. He took a moment to look into the dragon's fierce eye. "This is a perfect shot," he thought longing for his bow. The dragon was off again almost as quickly as it came. "Let's go." They climbed the stairs to the spot where the wall used to be and looked across at the burning inn.<br>"Think you can go that way?" he asked her. He had to shield his eyes from all the smoke coming from the inn, but he could still see enough to know that it was the only way to go. Without hesitation Rahkelle leapt from the tower and gracefully darted through the burning building out of sight. He watched her go before he went to help Ralof with the other Stormcloaks and make sure Ulfric got away.

(Rahkelle)

She took a deep breath of fresh air after choking on smoke the whole way through the inn. Her eyes were dry and burning as she briefly scanned her surroundings. She saw the Imperial soldier with the list trying to coax a boy away from his injured father. Rahkelle did not want him to notice her, but it was too late. "Still alive prisoner? Follow me if you wish to survive," he said. She reluctantly followed him. She made sure not to fall too far behind all the while looking for somewhere else to go. The soldier suddenly yelled at her to stay by the wall moments before the dragon landed. The wall shook under it's crushing weight as the beast roared angrily, reducing yet another building into a flaming wreck. They kept running. Her ears were ringing from the deafening screech, so she never heard what the Imperial commander said to the soldier. He picked up the pace once again and she followed, narrowly missing a spell cast by a mediocre mage. She saw the Wanderer and Ralof up ahead and she looked on horrified as the soldier drew his sword. He and Ralof quickly realized surviving was more important than arguing, much to her relief, then they ran in separate directions.

"Come on!" the Wanderer shouted as she started towards him. Ralof had already run into the keep. She stopped suddenly as a thought occurred to her. "I have to go with him," she said. She hated seeing the disappointed look upon his face after he had been so kind to her. Her stomach knotted at the pang of guilt, but she knew she must follow the Imperial. He shook his head. "Wrong choice, lass," he said as he turned away from her and ran after Ralof into the keep.


	2. Chapter 2

(ONE YEAR LATER)  
>The Wanderer trudged carelessly through thick layers of snow while enjoying the crisp winter air. He was on his way to dine with Ulfric at the Palace of the Kings. He said he had a job for him. He wondered what it could possibly be, considering Skyrim had already been won for the Stormcloaks. He moved freely in and out of Windhelm now that Ulfric no longer needed an agent. He whistled nonchalantly as he walked into the city. He tossed a septim to Silda the Unseen, who was warming her hands by the fire. She caught it, thanking him with a prayer for his kind heart. He nodded to her and made his way up the steps to the palace.<br>Ulfric was already seated at the table eating. "Must you always be late?" he asked looking amused as he rose to embrace his oldest friend. "Your food is cold."

"You know that will not stop me." the Wanderer said while opening a bottle of mead. "Besides, the war is won! How urgent could this be?" he asked before taking a swig.  
>"Very I'm afraid. I've received a letter from the court wizard of Whiterun." Ulfric said.<br>The Wanderer nodded. "Secret-Fire. I remember him. What does he want?" He took a massive bite of venison that would most likely choke anyone else.  
>"A survivor from Helgen. He said he sent one to retrieve an artifact from Bleak Falls Barrow about a year ago and they still have not returned. Now that the war is over and Whiterun has a new jarl he feels that this matter can no longer wait. I agree with him," Ulfric said shortly.<p>

"Aye, the dragons are a problem," the Wanderer's nordic accent was almost as heavy as Ulfrics. "What of this other adventurer he sent? Is he dead?" he asked.  
>"He isn't sure. It would make sense, seeing as an entire year has passed. I believe you can handle this. If you go directly there I will write to Farengar and tell him you're going. That will save you the time of speaking with him," said Ulfric.<br>The Wanderer laughed. "Yes, a lot of time."

( BLEAK FALLS BARROW)  
>Slain bandits littered the snow outside. Their blood was fresh. "Someone is certainly here," he thought "and they took all the coin." He decided not to waste any more time going through pockets. He snuck in, opening the door as quietly as possible.<br>The tomb reeked of foul draugr and fresh blood. There were more dead bandits in the back near a fire. He looked in a chest only to find that it had been looted as well. He cursed loudly, frustrated at being sent to an empty tomb when he barely heard distant yelling. He snuck through more empty halls and rounded the corner into a web filled room where a giant frostbite spider lay dead. He pressed on looking for the source of the voice he had heard. His impatience almost got the better of him until he came upon the figure of a woman standing over a body investigating a golden claw.

"She must have killed all of those bandits. Good thing I am no bandit," he thought as he quietly strung his ebony bow and took a few steps closer. She turned around, alert. As soon as the light touched her he knew who she was. She had not changed much. Her wavy brown hair had grown longer and was woven in braids away from her face. She had war paint now, a light grey stripe across her green eyes. She wore armor he had never seen before. It looked similar to thieves guild armor, only grey and sleeveless.  
>He put his bow away and pushed back his hood. He raised both of his hands as he stepped out of the shadows, "Don't worry, Rahkelle, there is no need to kill me, too," he smirked. "I am certain these bandits rue the day they crossed blades with you, but I mean you no harm."<p>

(Rahkelle)

She raised Targe of the Blooded ready to fight until she realized who he was. She would never forget the face of the first person she could remember. He was taller than most nords, with dark brown hair that reached his chin. His eyes were just as dark, and he had a short rugged beard on his unpainted face. He was draped in ebony armor, although something about it felt different but she couldn't quite pinpoint what. She smiled at him.

"The Wanderer, yes? Is there truly no other name I can call you?" she asked.  
>"Maybe," she noticed he changed the subject quickly, "Are you the Helgen survivor Farengar sent here nearly a year ago?" he asked raising an eyebrow.<p>

"I had other priorities," she looked away as she felt her cheeks grow warm. "How do you know this?"

"You took too long. He thought you might be dead so he sent me to retrieve it," he said. She was afraid of that. After mentally chastising herself for neglecting the task she felt more determined than ever to finish it. "Well you see I am alive," she said.

"Yes, and I will be going with you," he said assertively. She was also afraid of that. Now she would seem incompetent to the court of Whiterun. "And what if I refuse?" she asked defiantly.

"Sorry, love," he said "it is now as much my task as it is yours." He shot her a cheeky grin while crouching down to sneak silently through the hall.

She sighed defeated as she followed him, not wanting to be left behind. She didn't know what to think of this man the Wanderer. He acted as though everything were a jest, yet she remembered how serious he could be from their experience at Helgen and wondered how rare that was. She raised her shield and took out her glass mace as they came into a seemingly empty room. Draugr began waking up one by one around them.  
>She turned to the closest one. Just as she was about to swing her mace the draugr in front of her fell dead by an arrow. She took a moment to register what happened and just that quickly they were all dead. She looked sharply at the Wanderer who was casually holding his bow.<p>

"Stop fooling around, lass. We've got work to do," he exclaimed as he continued on, leaving her looking bewildered after him. She was beginning to feel like even he thought she was incompetent, too. They made their way into the next room where she noticed oil on the ground. The Wanderer was just about to step through it when a fireball flew past him into the oil. He barely had time to leap back from the massive explosion that woke up the few draugr lying in wait. She set them on fire as well and stood still, smiling as she watched them fall while trying to wade through the flame to get to them.

"You stop fooling around, Wanderer." she said mocking his lighthearted tone. She walked past him to lead the way, not bothering to acknowledge his staring. She had a hard time reading him and decided to focus on the task at hand rather than overthinking things as she tended to do. They continued in silence, moving through the shadows while picking off a few draugr here and there. "I could have easily done this on my own," Rahkelle thought to herself. She was growing restless and annoyed by the lack of a challenge. Her thoughts were interrupted by a frustrated groan from the Wanderer as they came upon a Nordic puzzle door.

"I cant stand these devices," he said. Rahkelle smiled and walked over to the door.

"They're not so bad," she said pulling out the golden claw. She studied it for a moment, moving it back and forth under the light before she turned the three rings and placed in in the keyhole. The door sifted and fell into the ground.

"How did you know?" he asked suspiciously.

"The answer is always on the key. You just have to look hard enough," she showed him the three symbols on the golden claw. They were so small and worn out he could barely tell they were there. He laughed at the simplicity of it.

She walked through and took a good look around. "Wow..." she breathed, her eyes moving rapidly. She slowly walked towards the small stream, placing her hand in the cold water. "This cavern is beautiful."

The Wanderer grinned, "Aye and a place like this would have beautiful treasure." He moved forward, stopping to look at the sarcophagus before continuing on to the word wall. She followed him silently.

"Do you learn these words, too?" he asked while absorbing the forgotten knowledge.

"I do. I'm no-" she was interrupted as a screaming draugr came bursting out of his tomb.

"It's about time," she said as she eagerly turned her mace in her hands a few times before rushing to battle. The Wanderer threw his head back laughing heartily before he strung his bow.

Rahkelle bashed the Overlord with her shield and swung hard with her mace. She spun around until she was behind him, almost like a dance as she swung again catching him in the back. He already had a cluster of arrows lodged in his body. He turned around and shouted, blowing her back into the sarcophagus. She growled with frustration getting up quickly to run back to him. The Wanderer had put away his bow and was behind him now dual wielding swords. He turned around and attempted to shout again, but Rahkelle knocked him forward with her shield into the blades of the Wanderer, killing him for good. She put away her weapons and wasted no time searching the body for the Dragonstone.

"You fought well." His serious side made her feel slightly intimidated. She had to work to keep her nonchalant demeanor.

"As did you," she replied. "Did you get your treasure?" she asked gesturing to the ornate chest.

"Let's split it," he said while picking the lock. Once he had it open they divided the spoils. Rahkelle took one last look at the breathtaking cavern before following the Wanderer out into Skyrim.


	3. Chapter 3

**The sun was shining brightly when they left the cavern. It couldn't have been later than midday. He watched Rahkelle as she led the way down the trail to the road. She was much easier to see in the sunlight. Her honey brown hair was weaved into multiple braids that met in the middle and hung down her back. Her armor fit practically, although it left her porcelain shoulders bare. He decided it was time to ask her the question that had bothered him longer than he cared to admit. He probably wouldn't get another chance seeing as once they returned the Dragonstone they would most likely part ways. He grabbed her arm and she turned around, her green eyes shining brightly compared to the grey of her war paint. He towered over her, and though his smile was mischievous his dark brown eyes were serious.**

**"Now I must ask you. Why did you run off with that Imperial dog at Helgen?"**

**She was surprised by the assertive grasp of his strong calloused hand, but what she couldn't deal with was the intensity of his stare or the low rumble of his voice when he was being serious. His height was very unusual, and she didn't fully realize how tall he was until now. Her heart raced as she reverted to her favorite defense mechanism: teasing.**

**"After all this time does it still bother you so?" She raised an eyebrow, almost daring him to say yes. He laughed as he let go of her arm and continued on past her. She steadied her breath and followed. **

**He put his hand to his chest dramatically, "Don't be coy, love. It would simply hurt my rebel heart to hear that you had tied your fortunes in with that lot."**

**She laughed, "I only wanted to see how my name was spelled on his list. I also wanted to know if he could tell me my crime or if I had any belongings."**

**He masked his relief very well. "I bet you stole something. Your armor seems suspiciously guildish," he made a point to look her up and down, then he moved to check his pockets, "maybe I should count my coin."**

**She smiled and rolled her eyes, "I can't imagine what could possibly be stolen to justify a beheading. I'm supposed to have killed a nobleman. He could not tell me who."**

**"So you haven't been successful in your search for your identity?" He asked feeling just as concerned as the day he first met her. She shook her head.**

**"After Helgen I came to Whiterun where I met the former jarl and Farengar. Then I made a great circle searching every city in Skyrim. Riften was the last place I looked and when no one knew me there I decided to stay. I purchased a house and I've been trying to build a new life ever since."**

**"I'm sorry to hear that. Although I can not help but notice you chose to live in Riften. What a dangerous city for a pretty little lass to live in by herself... unless she has made the right connections." He flashed a playful grin as he watched the color rise in her cheeks.**

**She gave him a hard look, "You're making a very serious accusation." She said slowly. Her tone was abrasive yet soft.**

**He laughed as he raised his hands in mock surrender, "I apologize, sweet Rahkelle." They walked in silence for a few moments, until her curiosity got the better of her.**

**"So what have you been doing all this time?" She asked looking straight ahead avoiding his gaze.**

**"Fighting the Imperials alongside Ulfric Stormcloak." She smiled when she heard the pride that coats the voice of every nord who speaks of a cause he believes in. She looked over to him taking in the contours of his face and the short, brown beard that adorned his chin and cheeks. His eyes were as dark as his hair yet they were so full of light due to his cheerful spirit. It was an odd contrast. She couldn't help but wonder how dark they could really be when he wasn't feeling so pleasant.**

**"You live in Windhelm then?" She asked.**

**"I stay in Windhelm often but I do not live anywhere. I'm not called 'the Wanderer' for nothing."**

**"You haven't a home?" She was surprised. She thought he must surely have a house. His ebony armor was quite fine looking, so he obviously had plenty of septims. **

**"Where did you grow up?"**

**"Windhelm. My father and Ulfric's father were great friends, so when my parents died he took me in as his ward. I began traveling frequently as soon as my debt was paid. Ulfric gave me the name 'Wanderer' because I was gone so often. I always did anything I could for the Stormcloaks, though. They were always there for me." She knew he loved them from the respectful way he spoke of them.**

**"Then Ulfric would know your real name?" She asked haughtily. Her desire to know his name would not allow her to contain that question.**

**He smiled, "Of course he does. He will not tell you, however." His evasive manner intrigued her even more.**

**"We shall see, Wanderer. Maybe I need to visit Windhelm soon." She smiled to herself as though she had cleverly discovered his name already.**

**"You know damn well you do not need to go to Windhelm." He teased calling her bluff. **

**"You have no way of knowing that." She said shortly, eager to end the discussion as Whiterun came into view.**


	4. Chapter 4

(A/N: I guess I need to go ahead and clarify a few things. I understand some situations aren't going to make sense such as two dragonborn absorbing one dragon soul but I'm going to have to overlook these things for the sake of the story. Of course I'll try to be as accurate as possible. I apologize for not updating regularly. My schedule is pretty ridiculous and I can't ever really say when I'll have time to update I just... will. I could use a lot of improvement as far as writing goes so I'm open to any advice! Thanks!)

_Well this is unexpected._ Rahkelle thought to herself as she ran with the Wanderer and Irileth to the Western Watchtower where a dragon was already wreaking havoc. She loathed being unprepared and was slightly nervous. Running from a dragon in Helgen and facing one head on were very different situations. She silently cursed herself for not reading enough about dragons. Gods knew she read about everything else.

The smoke climbed twice as tall as the tower. They couldn't see a dragon, but the presence of one was obvious by the rubble and fire. Irileth gave the command to search for survivors. The Wanderer turned to Rahkelle.  
>"Let's go to the top. We will see more from there." His demeanor was completely calm. She was deeply impressed by his resolve, staring hard at him for just a moment with an unreadable expression. She took a deep breath and exhaled quickly as she ran after him. They found a guard inside babbling incoherently, but paid him no mind as they ran for the top. She took another slow inhale, calming her nerves. She cast her eyes skyward and saw it. A magnificent dragon gliding carelessly in a slow circle. She paused, appreciating how amazing it really was until it roared, creating that awful noise that brought back unpleasant memories of Helgen.<p>

The Wanderer was already firing arrows into the dragon, who sank lower and lower. It opened it's mouth wide and inhaled. "Look out!" Rahkelle shouted just before the Wanderer dove to avoid the stream of fire that cut a path across the top of the tower. As soon as it flew off again she ran to him.  
>"We must get lower!" she could barely be heard through all the commotion.<br>He shook his head, "This is too good a vantage point." He strung another arrow and fired back. His rhythm was perfect. She followed suit shooting the creature with fire. Unfortunately her spells did little damage. It didn't seem to be too bothered with fire. The dragon retaliated, swooping low and spitting fire back at them. The Wanderer had taken cover by running down the stairs enough to be out of reach, but Rahkelle desperately sacrificed safety for a few more hopeful shots and was caught in the blaze. She held up her shield, screaming angrily as she tried to run out of it. She didn't dare inhale for fear of her lungs burning as much as her skin. It flew off once again and she immediately cast a healing spell, gasping for fresh air.

"Are you crazy?!" The Wanderer shouted furiously. He shoved her this way and that looking her over to see how bad it was.  
>"I can't fight this thing up here!" She pushed him away and took off running down the staircase to the ground. She scanned her environment quickly. Soldiers were running about looking up constantly. She heard a loud thud behind her and felt the ground shake.<br>"HEY!" The Wanderer yelled from above just in time for Rahkelle to leap behind some rubble before the beast shouted again. She grit her teeth and pressed her back against the stone feeling it heat up against her already burnt skin. She cursed loudly. This battle was not going well.

The dragon took flight again. She ran out and made eye contact with the Wanderer. Relief washed over him when he saw she wasn't hurt.  
>"Shoot his wing!" She yelled up at him. She was growing weary of this. <em>If the beast would just land I could do some real damage!<em>  
>The Wanderer ran down the stairs again to avoid another fiery attack. His heart raced as he ran back up to aim at the dragon's retreating form. He always held his breath to steady his aim before a controlled release.<p>

One.

Two.

He managed to lodge both arrows into the wing before the creature recoiled from the pain.  
>Rahkelle followed suit with fire. To their relief the other guards joined in. Soon the dragon could barely lift its wing and came crashing to the ground. Everyone pulled out their weapons and ran towards it. With a vicious growl the beast snapped up a soldier into its razor teeth, tossing him high in the air before he fell into its mouth. The loud crunch of bone was sickening.<p>

The Wanderer relentlessly struck it with arrows. Rahkelle ran forward darting past its thrashing tail. Her frustration fueled the heavy swings of her mace. She hacked into its belly and worked her way up to its neck, smashing it with Targe before digging into its throat repeatedly. With a loud cry the dragon fell.

_Talos be praised!_ The Wanderer ran down the stairs happy to be alive yet livid by the reckless way Rahkelle fought. He ran up to her as she was healing herself once again. Her skin was horribly red, but the burns were disappearing. She placed a hand to her cheek, feeling the heat as though she had a fever until she noticed the Wanderer. He looked angry. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a loud rush of wind. They looked at the dragon to see its body glowing. The scales began to ash and float away one at a time as the glowing wind rushed into them, filling them with a dull burning pain as their vision was blinded by a brilliant light.

They were simultaneously overwhelmed with a strong urge to shout. "Fus!" They yelled together, making most of the guards stumble. They looked at each other incredulously, regarding each other in a brand new way. The Wanderer completely forgot his anger and laughed disbelievingly. Her gaze was imploring as though willing him to answer the same questions he had himself.

"The Thu'um!" exclaimed one of the guards. "They summoned the Thu'um!"  
>Rahkelle listened intently one guard explained what his grandfather taught him of dragonborn while Irileth and another skeptical guard disagreed. She couldn't figure out what to make of all this. She sighed and looked to the Wanderer. He seemed to be in deep thought as well.<p>

"Let's just go see the jarl." She sounded so tired. He nodded and followed quietly.  
>He had heard plenty of war stories growing up, but was taught nearly nothing of dragonborn.<br>_I wonder if this has anything to do with the dragons coming back..._

The ground shook and the mountains rumbled. They halted, looking around for the source. The sky cracked with a sharp thunder as the word "DOVAHKIIN" echoed over the hills and rang in their ears.  
>Rahkelle looked at the Wanderer with a bewildered expression.<br>"What have we done?"


	5. Chapter 5

"So what happened at the watchtower?" Jarl Vignar asked reclining in his throne hauntingly similar to the way Jarl Balgruuf would. "Was the dragon there?"

They stood in Dragonsreach before the jarl. The great hall was mostly empty apart from Jarl Vignar and his steward Brill, who was dining at the table. The Wanderer got straight to the point. "The tower was destroyed, but we killed the dragon." He didn't know what else to say. He looked to Rahkelle to see if she would say more, but she seemed lost in her own thoughts. He wasn't even sure she was listening.

"But there must be more to it than that?" Vignar asked knowingly.

"Well..." the Wanderer trailed off as words failed him.

Rahkelle finally met his eyes. Of course she was listening. Who could ignore something like this? They stared at each other uncertainly for a moment.

"It seems as though we might be something called 'Dragonborn'." He never broke eye contact with her as he spoke. He studied her reaction, ready to see how she really felt about what had just happened. All she did was look to the ground as she disappeared into her thoughts once more, though not before he saw a panicked expression briefly cross her features.

"Dragonborn? Both of you?" Vignar asked looking from one to the other. "This is unusual. What do you know about the Dragonborn?"

"When the dragon died we absorbed some sort of power from it." He could still feel the dull burn of the fire that started in his chest and spread through his body like a web. Whatever it was he was filled with a strange desire for more of it.

"So it's true? The Greybeards really were summoning you?" He sat up straighter peering at them incredulously.

"Greybeards?" Rahkelle's head snapped up, alert as she finally spoke. She looked to the jarl with a furrowed brow.

"Masters of the Way of the Voice. They live in seclusion on the slopes of the Throat of the World." The Wanderer didn't have to listen to Vignar to learn about the Greybeards or where they lived. He remembered clearly when Ulfric left for High Hrothgar to study under them. He never imagined he would have to speak to them himself.

"What do they want with us?" She sounded almost angry now. It was evident by her tone that she was unwilling to accept this._You better not make me do this alone_. He thought, deciding then and there to keep an eye on her.

"Legend says the Dragonborn is uniquely gifted with the Voice- they can focus their vital essence into a Shout. If you two really are Dragonborn they can teach you to use this gift. You should go at first light." He stood, nodding respectfully to both of them before bidding them good night.

The main hall of Dragonsreach was completely empty by now, even though the fires were still burning. Rahkelle was staring intently into the flames while nervously biting her bottom lip. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked, but he didn't have time to think on it. They had bigger problems.

"What are you thinking?" He decided to just ask rather than wonder. She had hardly said a word, and that bothered him greatly.

After a long pause she shook her head and walked off towards the door.

"Rahkelle," he called after her, but she ignored him. He grunted angrily before following her. She had made it to the door when he grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

If looks could kill his life would have ended in that moment. Unfortunately for her his patience was spent. He didn't care about her thoughts or feelings anymore.

"Look here love, if I must go then so must you. Have you no sense of duty? Say something!" He threw up his hands in frustration as his eyes darkened.

"I am going home," she said standing up straighter and stepping forward in an attempt to get closer to his face as her glare intensified. "I have things to do and a life to live. Dragons are not my problem." She was surprisingly fierce for someone so short.

He returned her scowl with just as must ferocity. "Yes they are. If they were not before then they are now and you **will** be coming with me if I have to drag you kicking and screaming like a child." He hated arguing. He had always hated it, although he never let that stop him from saying what needed to be said to anyone. Not even her.

Her contesting smirk infuriated him more. "Or what? I am not your prisoner and you cannot make me do anything, Wanderer. So yes. I am leaving." She made for the door once again, but he slammed it shut as soon as she had slightly pulled it open.

"Lass, don't think for a moment there aren't things that I would rather be doing. I also do not know how to feel about this. However I do know that I'm not doing this alone," his face softened as he took on a more pleading tone. "Please, Rahkelle," he whispered. "Let's just talk to the Greybeards so we can figure out this Dragonborn thing together."

Deep down she knew she wouldn't be able to stay in Riften for long. Ever since they absorbed the soul of the dragon she had developed an odd sort of craving. In the back of her mind she was obsessing over killing more dragons. The Wanderer was right and she knew it. And she couldn't resist the soothing way he whispered her name. She cast her eyes downward, unable to say anything. He reached out and lifted her chin.

"Look at me," he still spoke softly causing her to take a shaky breath. He smiled inwardly, enjoying the effect he had on her. When she looked at him he knew then he had won her over. He just needed her to say it out loud.

"Please," he repeated. Her shoulders slightly fell as she sighed.

"Okay," she said closing her eyes. The Wanderer grinned with relief and gave her a friendly slap on the shoulder. She smiled back.

"Do I get to know your name now?" she asked. "If we are to go all the way to High Hrothgar I feel like I should know who I am travelling with." She grinned triumphantly as if she had finally won.

His laugh echoed through the empty hall. "Oh, Rahkelle, don't be ridiculous. You know me." He kept laughing as he went through the door leading the way to Whiterun.

(A/N: Thanks Judithhhi! You really made my day ^-^)


	6. Chapter 6

(A/N: I promise I'll start writing longer chapters soon. I'm planning on making this my last short chapter if I can help it. Also, I feel really dumb for asking this but... should I have posted certain disclaimers such as I don't own any Elder Scrolls games or characters, and this fic contains main quest spoilers? I've never done this before, sorry. If I was supposed to I'm doing it now sooooo there's that. Anyway, thanks for reading!)

_It would kill a city guard to keep their damn mouth shut. _The Wanderer grinned despite his annoyance as every eye in the Bannered Mare stared at him and Rahkelle as soon as they walked inside. Being a frequent traveler he knew nearly everyone there, but they all looked at him like he was a stranger. He brushed it off and pointed to a small table off to the side, "Hulda, we'll each have a meal and some ale please," he said as he led Rahkelle to the table. He nodded to Sinmir who stared back stupidly, and then pulled his chair out a little too quickly before sitting down.

Rahkelle sighed defeatedly as she took her seat, unable to ignore the whispers. She leaned back in her chair and looked up to the ceiling while fighting the urge to vanish. Hulda angrily signaled Mikael to sing in a desperate attempt to break the tension in the room. He started with a rendition of Ragnar the Red. His voice coupled with the soft music gave them something to listen to besides murmuring, which relaxed them enough to actually look at each other and shake their heads in an expression of their mutual frustration towards the citizens of Whiterun. The waitress Saadia came to their table expertly balancing two plates and two tankards, setting them down gently. "It's good to see you, Wanderer. I do apologize. We're not sure what to think now that legends are coming to life. These are strange times. I thought things would calm down after the war."

"It seems as though things are just getting started; for us anyway," the Wanderer said tiredly as he gestured to him and Rahkelle before drinking almost all of his ale in one massive swallow.

Saadia nodded and turned to Rahkelle. "I'm sorry, I know your face but I can not recall your name."

"Rahkelle. We've met before but it has been a while," she said vaguely.

"Oh yes I remember now," Saadia exclaimed with a sweet smile. "Did you ever find your family?" She asked as she remembered the only conversation they ever had.

Rahkelle blushed slightly, obviously hoping to avoid this topic for now. "You have an excellent memory," she stalled for a moment, taking a sip of ale before she continued. "I'm afraid I haven't. After a year of searching no one seems to know me," she smiled as though this did not bother her, although the Wanderer could see in her eyes how disconsolate she became as she spoke of her relentless predicament.

Saadia patted her shoulder sympathetically, "Well that won't last. Everyone is going to know you after today," she looked at the Wanderer. "I'll bring more ale. Let me know if you need anything else."

They hadn't realized how hungry they were after such a difficult day. Once they smelled the blend of salted meat and vegetables they were overwhelmed by their hunger and they devoured their food in no time. The Wanderer ordered a second plate and ate that one just as quickly as the first. Neither of them counted how many tankards they had drunk. He chuckled as he noticed how flushed Rahkelle became after finishing another glass of ale.

"Lass, do you usually drink this much?" He asked with a jovial gleam in his eyes.

"No," she answered honestly, "but if there's ever a proper time for that it is now." She set down her empty mug and shook her head with a guilty smile. "I truly am sorry for what I said in Dragonsreach. I know I reacted poorly. I just don't understand what this means. It is all so odd."

"Aye, that it is. Do you feel any different?" He paused thoughtfully, then he broke out in a wily grin, "I do not mean from the ale."

She chuckled, "I feel completely different... as if I am on fire, but not like before when I really was on fire. It is difficult to explain."

He nodded in agreement, "I know what you mean. I feel the same. Your skin looks good, are you alright?" He contemplated once more whether he should chastise her for being careless in battle seeing as he became preoccupied earlier. _Not now. But if she ever does that again..._

She waved him off, "I'm fine. Tell me what you know about the Greybeards."

He shrugged, "Very little. Ulfric spent a lot of his life studying with them. I was thinking we should go by Windhelm. It's a few hours out of the way but I want to hear what he has to say about this."

"Oh good, I must to go there," she said as she idly traced the rings on the wooden table with her finger. Saadia dropped off two more tankards on her way back to the kitchen.

The Wanderer scoffed, "What for? Going to ask Ulfric my name are you? He won't tell," he winked at her when she looked up from the table.

"Don't flatter yourself, Wanderer. I told you I had things to do there," she said matter-of-factly as she preoccupied herself once more with the natural wood patterns of the table.

"Like what, hm?" He asked provokingly.

"I will tell you if you tell me your name," she tried weakly, knowing by now that he most likely wouldn't tell her.

"Not now," he said shortly.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Later?" She asked hopefully. He only shrugged, and she was far too tired to press it. They had been through enough this day, and she didn't have the energy to repeat the same conversation they've already had several times. They sat in silence for a moment as Mikael began to perform Age of Aggression, although it is never easy to pay much attention to music with such a heavy mind.

"This day is just as strange as the day I woke up on the carriage to Helgen," Rahkelle said thinking aloud. She looked up at the Wanderer and studied his face for just a moment before she grinned as another thought occurred to her, "Wanderer, why is it that on the two strangest days of my life you are there in the midst of all the trouble?"

He laughed loudly causing the few patrons left to look to their table for a moment, although neither of them noticed. "Just what exactly are you insinuating, love? I am not some daedric lord using you as my plaything," he raised an eyebrow as he peered at her suspiciously "in fact I could easily ask you the same question." He tipped his tankard to her before taking another swig.

She leaned forward with one corner of her mouth turned up in a half smile. "All I know is if you do not cease bringing calamity into my life I might have to kill you..."

She giggled then, unable to maintain the ruse that she would ever kill him. Her laugh was intoxicating. It made him want to seize her right then and there just to show her who would be killing who if it came down to it. However he knew in his heart he could never kill her. They both knew they were beyond the point of killing each other.

"You can try," he challenged as he sat back and reached his arms behind him with a groan, stretching the tension out of his muscles. She couldn't help but admire his build as he stretched. She desperately searched for a flaw looking for anything that might convince her that he's not as perfect as he seemed to be. She had to admit she thought of him often after Helgen. She even caught herself longing for his company a few times as she traveled Skyrim alone during her search for her identity. He was very kind, and he made her feel so safe. All in all he was completely irresistible and that frightened her. She had never given that much thought to any man, so she couldn't understand why this one could simply reappear out of nowhere wielding so much power over her. She was already weary of this mental battle and almost wished he had let her go home to Riften. Almost.

"We should get some sleep," he said suddenly bringing her out of her thoughts, "we need to leave early. At least by dawn." She nodded, standing up simultaneously with him. They approached Hulda and paid for their food and two rooms before bidding each other goodnight.

She counted the minutes after she closed the door behind her, making sure the Wanderer had plenty of time to settle in and fall asleep. She wasn't a very patient person, unless it was a situation like this. She knew the longer she waited the more secure she would be. After a good amount of time she pulled her hood over her head and quietly opened her door a crack, scanning the hall for anyone that could possibly see her. It was clear, so she quietly made her way to the staircase and looked down. Uthgerd the Unbroken was still seated at her usual table, but she also as usual was only interested in her mead. She watched Hulda until she turned her back, and then snuck down the stairs and through the door into the night.


	7. Chapter 7

"Terrible and powerful Talos! We, your unworthy servants, give praise! For only through your grace and benevolence may we truly reach enlightenment!" Heimskr stood in his regular spot preaching as loud as ever. He was out later than usual, most likely enjoying the cool night breeze. The sky was clear making the stars more brilliant against the deep black hue of the night. Luna moths glided by delicately riding the breeze.

He didn't notice the hooded figure sitting cross-legged on the curb of the shrine with an elbow on her knee, leaning her head into her hand with the appearance of hanging on to his every word. Her stillness made her nearly invisible and she knew in just a moment she could make her move without getting caught.

"And deserve our praise you do, for we are one! Ere you ascended and the Eight became Nine, you walked among us, great Talos, not as god, but as man!"

She felt her fingertips graze the tiny jewel before she spread them far enough to grab it by the tip. She was not afraid to pull it out swiftly. Experience had taught her that the slower you are the more likely you will be caught. She had executed the entire movement with only her arm. Her body remained still like a statue even as she moved her arm back to its relaxed position across her ankles.

"Trust in me, Whiterun! Trust in the words of Heimskr! For I am the chosen of Talos! I alone have been anointed by the Ninth to spread his holy word!" He concluded, taking a deep breath and looking around proudly as though he had a large audience applauding him. He walked off, presumably to bed, although she didn't really care. All that mattered was he didn't suspect a thing, and her client would be very pleased.

Even after picking many pockets she still felt an exhilarating sense of pride every time she completed a job without a hitch. At this point she lived for it. It was all she knew. When Rahkelle came to Riften after searching Skyrim and realizing she had reached the end of her rope with nothing to show for it she was devastated. Broke, starving, and all alone, she had nothing to lose when a red haired nord by the name of Brynjolf approached her in the marketplace with a very tempting offer. She was powerless to refuse, and that's when she found what she now considered to be her family. They saved her by giving her a purpose as well as something focus on besides the person she used to be, whoever that was. She belonged there and missed it greatly, but she knew she had to put those feelings aside for now. She had a nervous pang in her stomach as she was reminded of the ominous feeling that her destiny might be bigger than the guild.

She approached the Bannered Mare, going in through the kitchen this time. Hulda was sweeping and didn't notice as she clung to the wall, sneaking behind her and up the stairs. She stopped in front of the Wanderer's room and listened by the door for just a moment. Hearing nothing, she stood up and quietly went into her own room.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

It felt like only a few minutes had gone by before she was awakened from a groggy half sleep by a loud tapping on the door. The sun had only just started to rise. She sighed as she brought her arms over her eyes, quietly cursing before getting up. She slowly walked to the door, opening it to the smiling wide awake face of the Wanderer. He chuckled when he saw her, most likely because she looked like an untamed mess. Her brown hair hung completely down in disheveled waves and some of the paint across her eyes had smeared down her cheek. She wore an oversized robe that buried everything but her head in loose fabric. Her vision was still blurry so she had to slightly squint up at him as she leaned on the door frame. "S'matter, love? Didn't get much sleep?"

She stood up straighter and opened her eyes a little wider as she remembered her brief visit to town last night.

"Sort of. Give me just a moment." She mumbled tiredly.

He nodded, "Meet me at the stables."

He turned and walked away, still smiling at how wild she looked as he left the Bannered Mare. There was a mist hanging over Whiterun so early in the morning. The shops weren't even open yet, but he didn't want to wait much longer. He had enough supplies to make it to Windhelm, and he was eager to speak with Ulfric.

Even though he was adopted by Ulfric's family they had always considered themselves brothers. They were very close as children, and although they drifted in and out of each other's lives sporadically they always maintained that bond. The Wanderer was indespensable to Ulfric's cause during the war. Because they weren't seen together very much he was able to infiltrate the Imperial side without anyone realizing his connection to the Stormcloaks. Only the older families that originated from Windhelm knew the truth, and none of them would jeopardize the safety of the Wanderer, who was loved by all. He was able to gain the trust of General Tullius, and therefore aid in defeating the Imperials from the inside. It was a difficult game to play, but the Wanderer was so naturally charismatic that he pulled it off perfectly. He didn't enjoy living a double life or betraying people who had come to rely on him, but he believed in Ulfric and his cause. He would always be loyal to his greatest friend and brother.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

She came to the stables much more awake, wearing her usual armor with her hair braided only on the sides leaving the rest down. There was a soft wind blowing her earthy brown tresses around her shoulders as she approached him with a smile.

"Thank you for waiting," she said.

"I did not have to wait very long," he smiled and turned to the two horses that were calmly standing behind him. He handed her the reins of one before mounting his own. "Let's go."

She cast a glance at what was left of the Western Watchtower with a slight sense of dread before mounting her horse and riding after the Wanderer. The fresh morning air made the ride pleasant although they rode hastily to avoid wasting any time. It wasn't until they were an hour outside the city when they heard the deafening screech of a dragon flying low above them.

The beating of wings created a hard gust of wind that frightened their horses. They reared back tossing the Wanderer and Rahkelle off in different directions before they took off down the road. They jumped up as the beast circled back around. It flew over them, opening it's scaled jaw and coating them with a layer of bone chilling frost that sharply bit their flesh. The Wanderer forced his frozen limbs to grab and string his bow, gritting his teeth as he pushed his shoulders back to aim for the sky. Suddenly he felt a warm soothing sensation spread through his body as Rahkelle healed him for a moment and then herself.

The creature landed with a massive thud that shook the earth beneath them. It reared it's head back to ready another shout, but flinched suddenly with an angry snarl as it was struck with an arrow. Rahkelle took advantage of the distraction, running forward with Targe and her mace drawn. She darted around it's wing and dove forward while reaching up to strike under it's belly.

The dragon cried out and flared it's wings away from it's body before suddenly beating them against the ground, smashing into Rahkelle who was in the process of running out from under the beast as it lifted itself off the ground and flew off with a malicious roar. The Wanderer ran over and pulled her to her feet with one swift movement, his eyes trained on the sky. It glided back over them breathing another rush of icy wind onto them from above. They ignored the cutting chill that stung even into their lungs as they barraged the scaly armor of the beast with razor sharp arrows and blasts of fire, repeating the same tactic of aiming for one wing that had worked so well at the Western Watchtower.

The dragon landed once more with with a vicious growl and snapped it's pointed teeth. The Wanderer unsheathed his two swords and ran at the beast. He moved in pattern making himself hard for the dragon's eyes to follow. He struck the side of it's head and tried to duck as it swung it's face around smacking the Wanderer to the ground and knocking the breath out of him. It moved to swipe at him, but Rahkelle ran up swiftly driving the spikes of Targe and her mace repeatedly into the dragon's claw as the Wanderer stood back up. Rahkelle jumped back as the dragon gnashed it's teeth in an attempt to bite her in half, but the Wanderer leapt forward and stabbed it in the neck using his blades to climb onto it's back where he was able to plunge them deep into it's skull. The creature tossed it's head back as it died causing the Wanderer to fall off and land hard on his side.

Rahkelle ran over to him and rolled him on his back, relieved as he looked up at her through half closed eyes. He winced as the familiar rush of the dragon's soul hit them both. The sensation was different this time. A chill spread through them causing their muscles to ache and stiffly tense up. They remained unmoving in an attempt to regain their composure. The Wanderer was bleeding from a large gash on the side of his face and was starting to bruise from his chin all the way down his neck and arms. Rahkelle also had many cuts on her body and tears in her armor as well as a busted lip. He stared at the sky as he caught his breath, grateful not to have broken anything. Her eyes were roving his body as she worriedly assessed the severity of his wounds.

"Can you walk?" She asked unevenly as she held out her hand to him. He took it allowing her to help him sit up.

"Aye," he said with a groan. "Just give me a moment." She smiled when she heard him echo the words she had spoken to him that morning. She attempted to heal them both once more, but her head was throbbing and she was having a difficult time concentrating. She let out a frustrated scoff and placed her head in her hands, massaging her temples and silently willing herself to focus. The Wanderer stood up carefully and took a deep breath as he rolled his shoulders back a few times. "We have to get to Windhelm," he said with determination.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

What should have been a short ride on horseback took twice as long on foot, but they had no choice seeing as they had no idea where the horses had run off to. They stuck to the road where the snow was lowest although they fought blistering cold winds that stung their wounds. It took both of them to push open the doors to the Palace of the Kings.

Ulfric recognized the towering form of the Wanderer as soon as he came through the door. "My friend, where where in Oblivion have you been?" His voice thundered down the hall. As they got closer he saw the way they slightly leaned on each other and how dirty and beaten they were. He stood up and quickly strode over to them.

"You look terrible," He said as he called to his steward Jorleif to go get Wuunferth.

The Wanderer looked at him with a swaggering grin, "I swear it is not as bad as it looks," he replied breathing heavily. His teeth were pearly white in opposition to the dark red bloodstains that adorned his face. Ulfric poured them water as they sat, relieved to finally rest their tired legs. Wuunferth came through the doorway and greeted the Wanderer with a familiar pat on the shoulder going to work with his advanced restoration skills. The Wanderer sighed with relief as he felt the pain recede and his gashes slowly close up. Wuunferth handed him a healing potion and moved on to Rahkelle, bringing Ulfric's attention to her.

"And who are you?" He asked as he nodded to her politely.

"Rahkelle," she said through the swirling golden light. "I was at Helgen."

"Ah," said Ulfric as realization dawned on him, "that is where I know you from. I am guessing you are the one I sent him after?" He gestured to the Wanderer who had already helped himself to the food at Ulfric's table. He smirked with amusement at his friend's insatiable appetite.

"I'm sorry, I do not know what you mean," she said with her eyebrows knitted together in an expression of confusion.

"Yes, that's her," the Wanderer intervened in between bites of bread. "She was at Bleak Falls Barrow when I got there," he set down his food and leaned back in his chair while crossing his arms across his chest, "and we've been summoned by the Greybeards."

Ulfric's eyes went wide as he looked from the Wanderer to Rahkelle, "I am impressed. It's a great honor for them to summon you both. They speak to very few. In fact, they hardly speak at all. Do you know why they summoned you?"

"We killed a dragon near Whiterun and absorbed some sort of power from it, and then we were able to shout," the Wanderer said. "Today we fought another dragon not too far from here and the same thing happened."

Ulfric nodded. "I see," he said. "You are slaying dragons. This is incredible," he grinned at the Wanderer. "With the dragons returning and then two Dragonborn appearing... maybe the Greybeards know what it all means."

"What are they like?" Rahkelle spoke up as her curiosity got the better of her.

"The Greybeards are quite ceremonial. They live in seclusion at High Hrothgar spending most of their time meditating in the way of the Voice. I lived there for almost ten years. It's very disconnected from the troubles down here. That's why I couldn't stay. Arngeir hasn't forgiven me for leaving... and for what they would consider a blasphemy," said Ulfric.

"And who is Arngeir?" Rahkelle asked. You could almost see the cogs turning in her head as she listened closely to Ulfric.

"He is a powerful elder who acts as the Greybeards' representative in that he is the only one of the four who can speak safely," said Ulfric. The Wanderer perked up, hearing the first bit of information he didn't already know.

"So we should find him when we get there?" he asked, already feeling a little more confident about going.

Ulfric nodded with a quiet laugh. "Yes, but don't speak of me at all if you can help it. I do not want to tarnish your good name." The Wanderer laughed loudly. Rahkelle smiled and stood up.

"I'm going to get supplies. Is there anything you need, Wanderer?" she asked, inwardly grimacing at herself for sounding like a housecarl, although she did have the ulterior motive of getting to the market unaccompanied.

He smiled at her, "Arrows, if you don't mind?"

"Of course," she turned to Ulfric. "Thank you for you help. It was a pleasure meeting you properly without the threat of an execution."

"Likewise," he said laughing. He looked to the Wanderer as she walked out and listened for the sound of the door shutting. As soon as he heard it he looked to his friend curiously.

"It is strange that you both are Dragonborn. How has it been for you traveling with her?" Ulfric asked.

The Wanderer shrugged, "I don't entirely trust her to be honest. I am almost certain she is affiliated with the Thieves Guild. Also she did not respond well to the idea of being Dragonborn. She was angry," he said warily. "She did apologize for that, but I am uncertain how to feel about her. We're both uncertain about everything. Of that I am certain," he said with a chuckle at his own ridiculousness.

Ulfric grinned back, "At least she's easy on the eyes, eh?" He said as he gave him a smack on the shoulder.

The Wanderer rolled his eyes. "A scoundrel is what you are," he said pointing to him. _But I can't honestly say the thought hasn't occurred to me, too._

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Rahkelle approached the high elf she had been eagerly hoping to see as soon as she had purchased enough food, arrows, and potions for her and the Wanderer to make the journey to High Hrothgar. Niranye had become a much appreciated ally after she had killed the Sommerset Shadow's leader Linwe, of whose armor she was wearing. She liked the way it fit her, and the lightness of it made her more silent but also quicker on her feet.

"Long time no see, guildmaster," she said with a warm smile.

"Indeed. I am happy to see you," Rahkelle walked around her stand to give her a hug.

"What brings you to me today, hm?" she asked, always eager to see the interesting items Rahkelle usually brought.

"I'm actually not selling. I need a favor. Would you mind getting this garnet to Delvin Mallory? I also have a letter for Brynjolf," her voice was low as she discreetly handed her the letter as well as Heimskr's flawless garnet, their hands hidden behind the frame of Niranye's stand.

"Not going to Riften, are you?" She asked, somewhat surprised.

Rahkelle shook her head. "Unfortunately no. I do not know when I'll be going back to Riften," she said with a tone of regret in her voice as she said goodbye to Niranye, who kindly wished her a safe journey. Speaking to her made her miss the guild even more, but she pushed the thought from her mind as she walked back to the Palace of the Kings.


End file.
